Thursday, December 18, 2008

Semester reflection

When reflecting on the semester, I realized that a prominent theme in our studies dealt with the downtrodden, rejected members of society. I began to wonder if this was coincidence that the most important literary pieces from the time period of the enlightenment came from many who were outcasts in one sense or the other. In some cases, the author represented the misfortunate character: Mary Wollstonecraft battled men's view of superiority over women, and Equiano personally was enslaved for most of his life. In other cases, however, the author simply took fascination with characters neglected by society, as in the case of Voltaire's Candide. Though the deists writing in this period were not necessarily neglected, they still represent a sense of the "other" from the norm during this period; Alexander Pope, Voltaire, Thomas Jefferson and the other drafters of the Declaration of Independence all fit into this category.
Why is it that revolutionary and remembered pieces from an era come from those with such a different perspective than the rest of society? Could this trend signify the emphasis on equal rights and freedom of religion that now dominates our lawmaking in the 21st Century? I believe so, not only in the sense that these texts influenced their own time period, but in that they can still be referenced today, and can still inspire ideas in those seeking change within modern society.

Friday, December 12, 2008

The Journey of Equianos and Candide

Since we talked yesterday in class about possible essay questions for the upcoming exam, I thought it might be useful to expand on my specific essay topic: What comparisons can be made between the personal journeys of Candide and Equianos?

First of all, both Equianos and Candide were removed from their comfortable homes in a drastic manner. Candide gets kicked out for going too far with Cunegonde, while Equianos is kidnapped from his home village. They share the same feeling of uncertainty about their future, and the same sense of being lost. Both Equianos and Candide embark on epic adventures all over the world, and although they have different aims, they both search for happiness. Candide's happiness is represented in his reunion with Cunegonde, while Equianos works toward his freedom. Although both men eventually find what they are looking for, it is a long, strange trip for both, and the end never quite turns out the way it is supposed to. Candide finds Cunegonde and retires to a life of farmwork; however, Cunegonde is old and ugly, and his work is physically demanding. Similarly, Equianos buys his freedom and begins a life of public speaking, with his wife in England. But, Equiano's ultimate goal of the abolition of slavery is never accomplished. Although both men find what they are looking for in a sense, the journey that takes them there distorts their perfect ending.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Slave narrative

While reading the slave narrative by Olaudah Equiano, and in light of the packet we received in class on Thursday, I can't help but keep wondering WHY the Africans, of all people, took the brunt of this imposed slavery system. I know we mentioned the colonies of the English there, but could there be another reason?
I found this article basically outlining minority work in the US. After browsing through it, I realized that Africans were NOT the only ones forced into slave labor, although often they are the only ones considered when the topic of 'slavery' is brought up. However, can the flow of underpaid Asian immigrants into the US during the gold rush, or even the underpaid Hispanic population in the United States currently, really be considered fair working exchange? In a way, we haven't evolved completely away from the basic principles of slavery: unfair compensation for work, and poor working environments.

Friday, November 21, 2008

It's just American history

Before studying the Declaration of Independence this Tuesday, and hearing Professor Svelmo's (sp?) speech on the history of our founding fathers, I often approached American history with more than a little apprehension. European history is exotic, exciting...while American history seems mundane simply because the same subjects are stressed over and over again throughout an American's education.

However...I may give it another chance. The background of Thomas Jefferson's famous document holds SO much-his true background as a slave owner, his slightly arrogant attitude, his help from John Adams and Benjamin Franklin. All of these facts were overlooked in my previous studies of the matter, but I really think they make the document more personable, if that even makes sense. Jefferson wasn't some ideological figure; he was extremely intelligent, yes, but he struggled the same battle between his ideals and his ability to follow them completely, just the same as present Americans. In the same way, Adams seemed to struggle with his own shortcomings in the HBO series. While these personal traits may seem inconsequential to some, I think they make our American history, and forefathers, something we can share, and even relate to 200 some years later.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Candide: hero or humor?

Candide is one of the most interesting, and therefore questionable, characters we have encountered this fall. His struggle seems sympathetic; he is kicked unceremoniously from his home, forced to travel without means or money while believing those dear to him have died, and all the while keeps hope of returning to a state of happiness. To me, it seems like Voltaire is making fun of Candide, and in penning the Character, representing the whole human race of his world. Hope is for fools; however, Candide holds on, placing his trust in a divine purpose that he believes will guide him to success:

"Come on then", said Candide, "and let us put our trust in Providence." (p.43)

Is Candide's hope something to admire or look down upon? In today's world, optimism is compared to naivity; someone with Candide's outlook would be considered someone without world experience, and knowledge of life's trials. However, Candide's twist is that he DOES have knowledge of these trials, yet persistently hopes for the best. To me, this kind of 'optimism' is something Voltaire would encourage...while doubting that anyone could accomplish it.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Alexander Pope

First, I loved this reading! It seemed to pick up right where we left up, after reading Milton. Pope, to me, seems like he is rationalizing the way that God has set up the world for men to live in...much like Milton explained how Adam and Eve were responsible for the fall of man, and subsequent necessary salvation by Jesus. One line that really matched up:

"Weak, foolish man! will heaven reward us there
With the same trash mad mortals wish for here?
The boy and man an individual makes,
Yet sighest thou now for apples and for cakes?
Go, like the Indian, in another life
Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife:
As well as dream such trifles are assigned,
As toys and empires, for a God-like mind."

Pope is basically saying that man has no way of knowing what God has planned-crying over man's current state on Earth is pointless because Earth was never meant to be man's reward. Pope's subject matter was a popular one during the Enlightenment period; I found an article discussing Voltaire and Pope's relation, and often similar ideas, on the state of man during this time.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Innocence of Adam and Eve

After reading the unfortunate fall of Adam and Eve, I thought that the language shift that Milton uses to signify a change in circumstance was unique and actually really telling of the new situation. Before Eve eats the forbidden fruit, the words Milton uses in every sense portray the satiety that Adam and Eve feel in every aspect of their living.

Eve says, "And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed,
Alone, without exterior help sustained?
Let us not then suspect our happy state
Left so imperfect by the maker wise
As not secure to single or combined.
Frail is our happiness if this be so,
And Eden were no Eden thus exposed." (p. 274)

To me, it seems here that Eve is saying to Adam that they already are happy (pre-fall), and that nothing can disturb that happiness because, in the end, God is sustaining and guiding them. However, after Eve partakes of the fruit, her words reveal her feelings of being lost, and of wanting more. On 287 the serpent alludes to this want, asking her why she shouldn't want a happier life. Later, Eve starts referring to the guidance of god as a prohibition that "binds" her and Adam (289). It's almost as if she truly has come to believe that God is her enemy, and not the serpent, in justifying her actions.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Dante anyone?

As soon as I started getting into the bulk of Milton's first book, I instantly found myself transported to last semester. He seems to me so similar to Dante: the poetic language, the vivid descriptions of Hell, and the specific names he gives to fallen angels. Milton was onto something here: humans can't resist thinking about their possible demise. He knew that Hell inspired fear, and more than that, captures a great audience because fate concerns EVERYONE. His descriptions of horrendous Hell are typical, but still frightening:

"A dungeon horrible, on all sides round
As one great furnace flamed, yet fro those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Served only to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all, but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery deluge fed
With ever-burning sulfur unconsumed." (10)

But has Milton really not progressed past Dante? It seems like he has to have a different point, writing much later than Dante. More than that, he has a much different audience: this was post-Reformation. While still overwhelmingly Christian, knowledge of Islamic and considerably pagan religions was more well-known. Was he reminding his peers of their Christian backgrounds?

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Violence In Oroonoko

It seems like we (Hust girls) cannot get away from this theme of violence. Halfway through the reading of Oronooko, I sighed to my roommate about the love story I was reading for class...I should have known better! The violence thahttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gift appears in the end of Oroonoko (the killing of Imoinda, the whipping and self-inflicted wounds of Oronooko, etc.) seems to me like it continues the theme of tragic endings that so characterized this period of writing. Shakespeare began the tradition in the late 1500's with his tragic plays, and Behn seems to have at least been slightly influenced by that genre in the 1680's, considering the ending of the play. I found one article even highlighting the similarities between Oronooko and classic Greek romances.However, the graphic nature of the text is still appalling:

"All that Love cou'd say in such cases, being ended; and all the intermitting Irresolutions being adjusted, the Lovely, Young, and Ador'd Victim lays her self down, before the Sacrificer; while he, with a Hand resolv'd, and a Heart breaking within, gave the Fatal Stroke; first, cutting her Throat, and then severing her yet Smiling Face from that Delicate body, pregnant as it was with Fruits of tend'rest Love." (p. 61)

Not only is Oronooko killing his wife, he kills his unborn child-and then decapitates the mother! Even more interesting here is Behn's use of loving, tender words and descriptions, which make the horrific murder scene even more gruesome in contrast. Additionally, she capitalizes certain words to add emphasis, a style I found myself enjoying more and more while reading. Was this style characteristic of Behn's time, or originally her own?

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Turning Turk

I found the article's description at the beginning of the article the most interesting, where the typical battle of English (good) versus Turk (evil) is laid out. It makes sense that the English needed and wanted a physical representation of evil to battle, and that came in the form of the Turks. On page four, the article clarifies that Englishmen were not afraid of "cultural domination", but actually afraid of being "conquered, captured and converted". By placing the responsibility for their possible pending conversion on the Turks, and making it seem like an act of force, maybe they were trying to clear their consciences about conversion. If anyone converted to Islam, it was an act of force, NEVER an act of willpower.

Later instances of representing the devil through the Turks are listed on page five: the article contains a text referring to the Turks in the singular, as "the wicked monster and damned soul Mahumet". The English lump all of the Turks into a category similar to saying that group of people 'over there', represented by a single person equal to Satan. While this godless existence was often associated with Turks, I found a sermon by Martin Luther discussing this very subject...even admitting the religious devotion of the Turks in comparison with the pope, and despite their refutal of key Christian doctrine (although he also associates them with the devil!).

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Othello



After reading these last acts of Othello, I feel the same frustration I usually feel after watching or reading some kind of tragedy. In every instance of tragic love, it seems like the characters are reduced to animalistic creatures with no control over their actions. Shakespeare hints at this in Act 5, Scene 2, when Desdemona tells Othello,

"And yet I fear you; for you're fatal then
When your eyes roll so..."

Later, before Othello MURDERS her, she again brings up his crazed look:

"Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame."

Shakespeare then seems to indicate that each person has an inner rage, usually release only by the jealousies of love. While this animalistic rage isn't necessarily commendable, he seems to indicate that it is common to all humans, and a natural reaction for Othello. But really-killing his wife? The image of a powerful war hero 'smothering' the frail, delicate woman that Desdemona is supposed to be seems like a horror movie, not a love story gone wrong. I think there's more at work in Othello's mind than the typical jealousies of love..perhaps Shakespeare questioned Othello's strength of sanity throughout the story. In either case, I think Iago represents here the nagging fear that grows in a person's mind until it drives a person mad (literally, in Othello's case) or to action.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

tough love

After reading these two acts of Othello, I can't help but wonder about the seemingly popular belief of Shakespeare's characters-that love is fleeting in anyone but the most perfectly matched couple. Iago KNOWS his plot will work because they young couple he preys on is not the typical one. In other words, Shakespeare deals with the same widespread notions that we deal with today when discussing interracial marriage: a couple from different backgrounds, especially racially, has it 'harder' in today's world...but I beg to differ. Isn't the point of love to find one's compliment in another person? To me, people of such drastically different backgrounds as Othello and Desdemona actually form a more perfect couple, by bonding over their differences, and sticking it out even though their peers don't think they can.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Montaigne's Choice

All of the essays had a unique focus, but I found the first essay by Montaigne the most unusual and comment-worthy. Reading the title 'On the Power of Imagination', I expected the essay to contain notes on the author's process of writing, encouragement to enjoy the arts, and other reflections on the positive aspects of creativity. Instead, Montaigne writes, for pages, about marital and sexual affairs (and shortcomings). Although I understood the point he made between the intimidation of the mind and performance , that could translate to any realm of life, I thought his approach was unique, questionable, and entertaining all at once. Shauna and I couldn't help reading parts out loud to each other, and though we laughed at a number of lines, Montaigne's humorous subject succeeded in getting his point across. After reading the first essay, the topic of friendship seemed of high esteem, and I quickly became more focused on this more HUST-like reading...but perhaps appreciated both styles a little bit more because of the humor in the first.